Irish Mediator
by bulletproofweeks
Summary: House finally goes to see a psychiatrist...Wilson's psychiatrist. House/Wilson Slash, Romance, Humor, Friendship, Drama, Abuse, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Discontinued
1. Hippo Oath

**Irish Mediator**

Chapter 1: Hippo Oath

"And what do you think you're doing?" The woman's accusation surprised House so that he _nearly_ jumped (House stressed the nearly). He recovered quickly and changed his expression to that of innocence as he looked up at the unwanted intruder. Well, maybe that description was slightly distorted. In truth, House was the unwanted intruder and could she really be blamed for catching the thief red-handed?

The woman stood in the doorway, a devilish smirk gracing her lips. House frowned, not sure what she was planning to do next. The woman's hair was a rare shade of dark red. Her eyes were a hazel and her skin was fairly pale with distinct freckles. She spoke with a strong Irish accent, yet her attire was definitely American.

"Ah…you must be Dr. Baker." House evaded easily. Her smirk didn't fade.

"Yes, Ceara Baker and I see you actually read the inscription on the office you just broke into. I'm thoroughly impressed." She replied sarcastically, making House smile a little at the woman's quick wit. "You must be Dr. House." She added, looking him over to confirm his identity. House was surprised (though he didn't show it) that the woman knew who he was.

"Who tipped you off?" He asked, glancing around with mock paranoia.

"Wilson. He mentioned you walked with a cane, which is pretty hard to miss. Not to mention the fact you're holding _his_ file behind your back." She spoke calmly as she took a couple steps forward, hand extended for the file. House released an exasperated sigh as he handed her the file in defeat.

"What else did he say?" House asked curiously, still eyeing the folder.

"Well, he mentioned you were a misanthropic, self-centered bastard, but why tell you things you already know?" Ceara countered turning to leave the room. House wasn't going to let her go that easily, not without asking.

"Aren't you curious as to why I wanted his file?" He asked nonchalantly. She stopped and turned back to the diagnostician. The man was leaning against the file cabinet, twirling his cane.

"You're worried about him and if you really want to know what's wrong…you can make an appointment." Ceara added pointedly.

"I'm _not _worried about him and I'm not stupid. I had to take the hippo oath too. You can't tell me a word of what your 'patient' told you in confidence." House argued. His blue eyes were trained on her every move. The woman was thoroughly intriguing and House couldn't help but enjoy the banter.

"I've never been one for the rules…_if_ I think breaking them will ultimately benefit my patient." She retorted with a mischievous grin.

"You'd be risking your job…and Wilson must not have said too much about me if you really think _I'm _a _benefit_ to him. I'll exploit anything you tell me."

"Well then, I guess I'll have to be careful what I tell you, but your not getting anything until you make an appointment." _I can see why Wilson likes her._

"Trust me. I don't need some psychiatrist analyzing me and giving me all this psychobabble crap. I just want to know the name of the ex-wife #4, so I can chase her off before Wilson self-destructs again as a result of his need for neediness." He countered quickly, somewhat annoyed at the prospect of paying for information.

"So you think he's seeing someone?" Ceara asked indifferently.

"This may shock you, but I know Wilson a lot better than you do. The man goes all out when he tries to impress a girl. He pulls out the hideous ties and takes extra care to iron his shirts, and he must really like her when he stops going to lunch with me."

"And that's all it takes to get your undivided attention?"

"I notice things…and I know you know who he's seeing. I bet the name's written in your notes somewhere." His eyes stared longingly at the file.

"Why not ask him instead of breaking and entering?" She asked, hiding the record from his gaze.

"I'm complicated."

"You love confrontation, but only when you have the upper hand. You avoid situations where you don't know what the other person's motives are or what they're hiding, such as this one." _Great…the Irish witch is analyzing me just like I said she would. I hate psychiatrists. _

"Yeah, I'm scared." House sneered, rolling his eyes. "Now, hand me the file and we can end this nightmare." He continued sarcastically.

"Ah-ah." Ceara waved her finger. "How bout this…take me to lunch and we can talk. That way we can save your precious reputation."

"I'm pretty sure there's a bet in NICU that I'll finally get that much needed psychiatric help," House laughed slightly at the idea (which wasn't far from the truth). He paused for a moment until he finally answered, "fine, but I'm not paying."

**This is an idea I had and it may be awhile before this is updated (depending on the level of interest). I would appreciate feedback! Thanks.**


	2. Free Lunch

Chapter 2: Free Lunch

House sat in a booth by the window. He was already eating as he waited impatiently for Ceara to arrive. She had insisted on finishing some paperwork before heading to lunch and so, being House, he went ahead without her. After all, she had agreed to pay for the meal. _She better show soon. _

He wasn't sure how a simple theft had turned into a lunch with Wilson's psychiatrist, but he didn't question it really. The woman was good-looking and had a refreshing sense of humor (not to mention she paid for lunch!). He wouldn't go so far as to say he liked the woman, but he didn't hate her (and House hates everyone…).

The red headed woman walked into the small, dimly lit restaurant and immediately recognized the cane-wielding criminal. She moved briskly to the table and sat across from the infamous diagnostician. James Wilson had said a lot about the man…actually every other sentence was centered on her patient's best friend. Of course, she had no intention of revealing that fact. Actually, she had no intention of revealing anything, but her ploy had worked and now she only had to wait for the second part of her plan to come through.

"I see you couldn't bother to wait." Ceara stated blatantly, not really surprised.

"Once again, did Wilson tell you _anything_ about me?" He answered pointedly. "You shouldn't have offered to pay."

"I didn't offer. You practically demanded it!" She countered, raising an eyebrow.

"And _you_ folded. What's your point?" His eyes remained trained on his food as he took another bite of his sandwich. "So…are you really going to spill Wilson's deepest darkest secrets or was this some ploy to get me talking bout my feelings?" _Damn it_, she thought.

"It's a little bit of both…" She answered in an oddly quiet voice. House frowned, but before he could reply, Ceara's second act was set into motion.

"What's _he_ doing here?" Came the unmistakably confused voice of Wilson. House looked up at his best friend. Wilson's expression was that of surprise, but his eyes also held a tinge of fear and worry. House directed a glare at Ceara. He knew exactly what she was planning and he wanted no part in it. Wilson, however, had no clue what the hell was going on. Ceara smiled weakly at the oncologist, if only to avoid House's penetrating gaze. Despite her best efforts, his glare was intimidating and made her doubt her plan.

"Care to explain, Ms. Baker?" House directed, his face impassive.

"Look…before you fire me," she looked to Wilson nervously. She then addressed House, but tried to avoid his eyes, "and before you kill me with your knife there, I want you two to just listen for a minute." House and Wilson shared a skeptical look. Wilson then turned back to Ceara.

"I'm not going to fire you." He replied thoughtfully with a brief smile, still confused at finding his psychiatrist having lunch with his best friend. Something about the entire concept was unsettling. Wilson still seemed anxious, but he was also relieved seeing as she hadn't told House anything. The diagnostician rolled his eyes in response to Wilson's compassionate gesture.

"You're such a sucker." He sneered.

"I trust her, okay?" Wilson responded defensively.

"_Sure_ you do," House replied sarcastically, "and her looks have nothing to do with it."

"Will you two stop it?" Ceara broke in, thoroughly annoyed, "you _are_ aware I can hear every word you're saying."

"You have _one_ minute to explain." House told the woman impatiently.

"In that case, I'm sitting down, so scoot over, House." Wilson ignored the older man's protest as he crammed into the booth. Ceara stared at the two doctors. House took another bite of his sandwich seeing that the increased tension was no reason to pass up a free meal, while Wilson tapped his fingers expectantly. She sighed.

"As far as I can see, you two are both miserable…" Wilson just stared at the Ceara, as House laughed slightly.

"You're kidding, right? Women and their need to fix people…what are you doing? Hooking us up?" He added as a joke, but the notion made Wilson's cheek flush a deep red. Luckily, House didn't notice (for once). Ceara, however, did notice and quickly diverted her gaze. Wilson couldn't contain a sudden pang of jealousy towards the woman. He knew he was acting silly, knowing Ceara had no interest in the older doctor, but he still couldn't repress a sudden possessiveness. House was his…and yet he wasn't.

"You came to me! You wanted to know what was wrong with Wilson and you were willing to commit a crime to do it! Now I can only ask, why you don't trust each other?" Wilson hid his surprise and joy at that comment. _House was __**worried**__ about me?_

"I trust him. I'd trust him with my life. Doesn't mean I'm going to spill my secrets…assuming I have any…" He added with an expression of mock innocence.

"If you want to know what's wrong with him, I expect you to reveal something in return-" She stated forcefully.

"Why? What does anyone get out of this?" House argued, matching and then surpassing her forceful words. Wilson's heart was racing. He knew what his psychiatrist was getting at. She knew everything, she knew him, and he knew her plan. She wanted him to spill his secret and deep down, Wilson knew it was tearing him apart inside. He was actually considering leaving PPTH, but he knew even that wouldn't help. House had to know…and Ceara was using negotiation to give Wilson the most opportune moment to tell him. She was putting her neck out for him and yet he wasn't sure he could follow through, but he wanted-needed-had to tell him.

"I get to tell the truth." Wilson broke in. "Can you…I mean…will you just…listen to her?" He pleaded with House. He hated the sudden desperation evident in his voice. The other man was slightly taken back by Wilson's sudden support of the idea. It meant a lot to him and House began to wonder why. "She…I have something I want-have to tell you…" He continued weakly, breaking eye contact. House frowned and wanted to turn down his plea, but…couldn't. He'd never seen Wilson so…troubled and (for the first time in his life) he restrained his insults. House sighed and turned his eyes briefly to the ceiling. After a moment of silence, he finally replied.

"I don't have any secrets worth knowing, so why don't you just tell me what you came here to say?" He asked, not sure what to expect as an answer. House had no intention of telling these two anything about his personal life. No matter what he said…he didn't trust Wilson. It was nothing personal…he didn't trust anyone. He learned that lesson early on in his life and he'd held firm to this belief ever since. Wilson, however, refused to give in.

"I can't…I just can't." He sounded pathetic. Wilson desperately longed to explain everything, but there was some strong barrier that prevented him from saying a word. House nodded, suddenly understanding what Wilson and Ceara wanted from him.

"So this whole scheme of hers is just some ploy to get you to trust me, right?" Wilson nodded, his eyes trained on the menu, which he chose to divert his gaze. House continued. "So if you trust me, you can finally tell me whatever it is you're hiding?" It was less of a question and more of a statement, but Wilson nodded nonetheless. "Must be a pretty big secret…" House mused as he returned his eyes to the ceiling. He sat silently for another minute or two, deep in thought, before turning his attention to Ceara, who was sitting quietly across from him.

"Fine…I'll give this a try," House conceded reluctantly, "but _nothing_ I say here is ever to be mentioned to anyone!" He threatened. House wasn't sure what compelled him to give in to this charade. The primary reason, House assumed, was the fact that in one minute, Wilson had changed into a desperate, anxious wreck. Whatever he had to say, it was big and he looked nervous as hell. House was curious, but he also (though he'd never admit it) was worried about his friend. If this _problem_ was big enough for his psychiatrist to drag _House_ into this, then Wilson might as well be on suicide watch. _Scratch that thought...too pessimistic. This is __**Wilson**__ we're talking about, but then again...he is on anti-depressants and he does have a psychiatrist. _House's mind began to race to diagnose exactly how screwed up his best friend was. Surely he would have noticed...

House knew this was much more than Wilson chasing another skirt. The younger doctor was in a major state of distress and House had completely failed to notice until this very moment. That could be blamed partly on Wilson's secretive nature (because House had no real intention of taking the blame himself). It was one reason why House and Wilson worked so well together in the first place. They both kept their private lives mostly to themselves and they knew never to ask about the other's past, but now, suddenly, Wilson needed to push their friendship further.

His psychiatrist was passing the torch to House. After this, Wilson wouldn't need a paid stranger to confide in. House wasn't sure how he felt about this, so he decided to see how it'd play out. In the end, he was doing this _only_ for Wilson...and (if he's really truthful with himself) for his undying curiosity and mad obsession with puzzles.


	3. Dalliance

Chapter 3: Dalliance

House confirmed the terms of their arrangement to salvage Wilson's sanity. "I'll tell you something personal...and then I expect you to answer _my_ questions truthfully." Wilson nodded, somewhat embarrassed by the childish endeavor. He felt like a teenage girl sharing hopes and fears during a slumber party. What surprised him most was the fact that House was actually going along with this seemingly juvenile scheme. Meanwhile, Ceara decided to sit quietly and be invisible. "I'm guessing I'll go first since you can't even complete a coherent sentence...let's start out small, shall we?" House's face changed to mock contemplation as he pondered what to reveal. "I slept with Cuddy." He stated nonchalantly.

Wilson's eyes widened as he finally turned to face the diagnostician. The casual tone the doctor used made Wilson doubt he had heard him right. "Cuddy? Our boss Cuddy?" He asked incredulously. Sure there were rumors, but Wilson had never really believed them. After all, Cuddy is a professional administrator and House...House is a disastrous pain in the ass for said administrator.

"Don't act surprised." House rolled his eyes. "As Chase put it...no two people can be that nasty to each other without being...nasty." He raised his eyebrows suggestively. Wilson just stared.

"I thought you said we were going to start out small?" Wilson asked, still skeptical regarding House's confession.

"Well in comparison to the other skeletons in my closet...that _was_ small. Seriously, that one was actually legal!" House exclaimed. Wilson rolled his eyes.

"I thought you said you didn't have any secrets!" Wilson retorted.

"Wow you're naive. Everybody lies." House repeated his coined phrase as he finished off his fries. Wilson glanced at a confused Ceara before pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

"I know I'm going to regret asking..., but when did you..._you know_?" He asked, despite his conscience's protest. Curiosity got the best of him.

"We went steady in college, broke up, and then we had a fling when I came to work at PPTH. Good times..." House stared into nothingness as if recalling a memory (only to annoy the hell out of Wilson). Wilson scratched his head nervously. This fact surprised him...and disturbed him. He feared House's answer to his next question.

"Do you..._love _her?" Wilson asked, his voice quiet and timid. House stared at the younger doctor curiously before answering.

"No." He stated indifferently. "Well, not like that." He watched his friend's reaction intently. "Now, I've just answered three questions, so it's my turn." Wilson tried to hide his relief, but House noticed; however, he assumed it was because Wilson loved Cuddy. _If only he knew..., _Wilson thought.

"I might as well order something, seeing as we'll be here for awhile." Wilson evaded, signaling for the waiter. The man arrived promptly to take his order.

"First off, did you ever sleep with Cuddy?" House asked, ignoring Wilson's reluctance and the bemused waiter.

"No." Wilson replied forcefully. He held his head in his hands to hide the redness in his cheeks. If this secret didn't kill him, House would. The waiter smiled, trying to ignore the man's question. House, yet again, ignored the waiter and continued loudly.

"Oh don't be so down...she only has eyes for gruff men of my high stature. The panty-peeler charm doesn't work on everyone." He smirked. Ceara rolled her eyes, amused by the screen play performing before her. The waiter seemed equally entertained.

"Sadly..." Wilson mumbled into his hands. House decided to spare the oncologist...sort of.

"He'd like a fat free caesar salad." House ordered for him. He then cupped his hand (so Wilson couldn't see) and added loudly, "self-conscious this one." The waiter held back a laugh as he nodded and took down the order.

"Anything else, sir?" Wilson tried to answer, but was cut off.

"He's fine. Now go earn your minimum wage." House shooed the man, who frowned at the rude comment. "Now." House stressed. The waiter stormed away.

"I wasn't going to order that."

"You were going to order a salad, and I like caesar."

"You just ate!" Wilson exclaimed, his eyes wide.

"Yes, but when you get your food, I'll suddenly get hungry again." Ceara finally chose to announce her presence.

"You better hope he doesn't poison your food," she quipped.

"I'll make Wilson eat it first. We'll know I really hit a nerve if Wilson turns green and keels over." Wilson hid a smile at that comment. _House will kill me one way or another_.

"But must you embarrass me? Don't you have some restraint?" Wilson asked exasperatedly, not expecting a real answer.

"That _was_ restraint." House explained. "You did have the hots for her though, didn't you?" It took Wilson a moment to recall the previous conversation.

"No actually."

"You're supposed to tell the truth!" House argued, not believing Wilson's answer. After all, the man went on a couple of dates with the woman.

"He is." Ceara interrupted in support of Wilson. House ignored her, but abandoned his pursuit.

"Fine, third question...who's ex-wife number 4?" He asked with an oddly cheery disposition.

"Huh?" Wilson asked, caught completely off guard.

"I know you're dating someone, so I want to know who she is! Spill." House pressured impatiently.

"Ugh...Amber." Wilson revealed reluctantly. He didn't seem too proud of his answer.

"Cut throat bitch? Are you kidding me?" House asked, utterly shocked (a rare event). Wilson nodded slightly. "I fear your taste in women." House said more to himself. He couldn't believe it.

"I call her Amber." Wilson defended.

"Well, I call her cut throat bitch." House declared while pouting like a child.

"Look, it didn't last." Wilson stated, using his hands to emphasize his point.

"Cause you cheated?" House asked knowingly.

"That's the fourth question." Wilson pointed out with a frown.

"It was more of a statement."

"I...had eyes for someone else." Wilson explained weakly.

"I guess she lied about dying? That would tick me off too." House continued, ignoring Wilson.

"I don't _need_ needy." Wilson argued, thoroughly annoyed.

"I finally understand why we're doing this." House mused.

"Why?"

"Because any good blackmail I get on you, you get on me. Tricky. You get brownie points for that." House elaborated, raising his eyebrows with intrigue.

"House! It didn't last. I like...someone else." Wilson explained, yet again.

"Cuddy?" House interjected.

"House!" Wilson practically yelled in frustration. His outburst attracted the attention of everyone in the restaurant.

"Okay, I get it. It's your turn...I'll get it out of you later." House responded calmly, unaffected by the sudden audience.

**Important Notice: My computer crashed so there may be a delay in updates until I replace my hard drive.**


End file.
